Grossberg's Last
by BitterSweetTeller
Summary: Mr. Grossberg's latest plan B could very well turn the tables on Network 23 for a long time to come. An extended ending and follow up for the episode Baby Grobags. Rated K Plus for suggestive content.


Grossberg's Last: A Max Headroom Story

Side Notes: If you haven't seen the whole 1987 Max Headroom show, please do before reading this fanfiction. It'll make a lot more sense this way, because this is a extended ending for the last episode of the 1987 Max Headroom show that can also be one for the entire 1987 show.

And even if you don't want to watch all the episodes from the 1987 Max Headroom show(but especially the last episode), I recommend looking up the important background information on the Weird Science-Fantasy Web Pages or the main Wiki(because it's very hard to find any). Everything in the last episode still happens.

In the pocket world of a computer screen…

The AI Max Headroom is with mainly slightly twisting and bending purple, green, and yellow lines in a box shape. He seems strangely quiet though. Across from him is a certain AI called A-7 in the only solid color light blue side of the box shape. A-7 looks very similar to a purple stranded double sided claw machine. With her double sided strand moving in a corkscrew way, A-7 realizes uneasily, "you haven't said…anything for 5,000 milliseconds. Are you-u…in danger of being reprogrammed?!"

Max sighs sadly, "no-o-o, A-7. I-I-I have lost a clo-clo-close friend of mine, so I might as well feel-eel-eel as low as the Whackets show: Slight chuckle. The only game show to whack you for their-eir prizes-s."

A-7 slightly giggles, "yes…I know the feeling: Before you saved me from being reprogrammed in milliseconds, I had Ms. Towne…who I thought was my only friend until you accessed my systems for who I really am."

Max mutters, "it's…it's not the same feeling here, sweetheart. Sigh. I wasn't betrayed by a systems threat, but by-y-y a good friend…friend…friend's own feelings."

A-7 suggests with a sigh, "well Max…least we're still on the same screen. Tell me the whole story, and I will help you better access your own feelings: Like you did for me."

Max somewhat happier remarks, "ah…ah…ah: A landslide…slide vote for recycled-led-led footage from the comforts of a computer screen!"

Within Max and A-7's current screen, a smaller security camera screen appears between the two AIs themselves.

The security camera screen reveals Bryce's mostly black and pale gray Network 23 living space and technical station, from footage from last night from the physical present day.

Behind white shutters, Bryce's portable boxed in computer with the technical station's color scheme was on the lower brown and white sheeted bunk bed. At the technical station, Bryce sighed hard over his personal failure with Network 66's offer. He muttered to himself, "least I still ha…" About to take out the dark gray and bright red Zik Zak Neurostim band still on his person from inside his pants pocket, the left screen started having activity onscreen. Bryce was startled.

With partial relief though, it was Max Headroom himself on that screen. Max hinted, "have I got-ot-ot a riddle for you: What wears-s-s black, white, and a 66…?"

Bryce slightly sighed, "not now, Max."

Max tried to point out, "uh…last…last time I checked, didn't Mr. Grossberg have a Come to Hell with…?!" Bryce then saw Mr. Grossberg on the line from the screen to the right.

Bryce insisted, "in case you've forgotten, I used to be that mean with Blipverts. If I could get through the prodigy deal without such consequences, neither of us would be that way!" At the same time, he had used that explanation to distract Max Headroom long enough to send his program to a sleeping Theora's home computer systems. Bryce sighed much harder, "sorry, but this is something I have to take care of myself."

He got Mr. Grossberg on the left screen, who was getting very annoyed at waiting for a few minutes just to talk to him. Mr. Grossberg muttered somewhat noticeably angry, "Bryce. About time you…! Sigh. This isn't being monitored, is it?"

Bryce assured, "there's no one watching the monitors but me. I just didn't want Max to notice you on the line."

Mr. Grossberg concluded, "actually, with what I have to offer now…sigh…it's better that way."

Bryce hinted, "wait: With Carter already having exposed the prodigy mix up, what is there left for you to offer?"

Mr. Grossberg revealed with a dark laugh, "you think if I had genetic samples from Ovu-Vat, I'd tell you when Carter was right in the same room with us?"

Bryce chuckled slightly, "got to be more to it than that to top your previous offer."

Mr. Grossberg went further, "when I started the prodigy show, I didn't just have genetically made writers in mind: I had reporters in the works to top Carter!"

Bryce started to argue, "in theory, yes: But just because I replicated thoughts from Carter to make Max Headroom doesn't mean…!"

Mr. Grossberg pressed, "with genetics and saltwater filled molding…! Sigh. Let's just say people more qualified than Ovu-Vat's staff are working on it. Given the circumstances though…you may very well be the only one that can speed up the process while it's still in the experimental stage to get the genetically made writers I was denied having. If you do this, I will give you a chair on my executive board with just as much consistent pay and respect as my top executives. Does that top Carter's prodigy expose?"

Bryce answered, "ok, you got my interest: When should I start?"

Mr. Grossberg darkly laughed, "as soon as you can come down."

Hours later, at the mostly vacant Network 66 executive board room…

Mr. Grossberg in his usual formal black and white suit came into the dimly lit dark blue room with his most trusted board executive. His name was Mr. Bartlett, with medium frontless black hair and a matching suit. A big black backwards 66 was detailed on the room's back wall grid of lights. A big rectangular black and dark blue rimmed table was in the center, with matching buzzer like buttons for each black chair.

To Mr. Grossberg's growing anger, he saw Bryce in matching formal wear in one of the chairs without a staff of genetically made writers. Instead, there was Bryce's portable computer to Bryce's right and a certain young woman around his age to his left. Bryce was trying hard to be calm, from mixed feelings on the network he left and the network he came to.

The very long brownish blond woman named Nicky had a white and purple striped bathing suit under the black executive suit given to her. She sympathetically had her hand on Bryce's, "whatever happens, we'll…" But because of Mr. Grossberg's anger, Nicky didn't get to finish the thought as she retracted her hand.

With a harsh stare, Mr. Grossberg muttered, "this…is your idea of a writer staff? Mr. Bartlett, check security!" Mr. Bartlett checked around the room's doors and wall sized viewscreen without question.

Bryce put up something of a front over his mixed feelings, "actually, if you give us a chance to explain..."

Mr. Grossberg pushed with a sigh, "fine, but this better not be a double cross! I'm sure you can understand my thinking there."

Mr. Bartlett partly assured him, "no sign of intruders, Mr. Grossberg."

Bryce's surprise friend revealed, "even for Bryce, the process was still too experimental to genetically make a writer staff: Only through his Neurostim was he able to stabilize me! But, the side effect is very obvious."

Mr. Grossberg realized with Bryce, "the image of your dream girl. Sigh. False alarm, Mr. Bartlett. I take it you have an alternative?"

Bryce slightly chuckled, "yes, Mr. Grossberg. Take a look." He turned the portable computer's exposed screen to Mr. Grossberg's direction, and pressed the enter key on its keys.

The screen changed from one clip to another, but of clips of television and movies never before released in Network 23 and Network 66's world.

One had a big red claw machine, with a certain cowboy toy named Woody trying to keep a certain space toy named Buzz from being taken by the claw machine's black claw and a certain human boy named Sid trying to get a prize from the claw machine. Another had a certain hacker human named Neo flying fast past shattering glass buildings to save a certain hacker human named Trinity through binary strand like green code. And a third one had a narration by a certain guardian sprite named Bob introducing a collection of cyberspace styled clips, before a certain logo spells out ReBoot.

Mr. Grossberg commented, "amazing stuff, Bryce…except for Max's voice everywhere giving me a headache." The screen changed to vibrating dark blue lines with Network Computer spelt out in blocky yellow letters.

Nicky hinted to Bryce, "umm…should you explain, or…?"

Bryce figured, "I guess I should. With help from the replicated thought traces from what I was able to save from the genetic samples, I reprogrammed this computer to be a computer generated idea elaborator."

Mr. Grossberg sighed a little, "you lost me there."

Nicky summarized, "with enough programmed in voice samples and submitted ideas, this computer can create any movie or television show you want from just those voices and ideas."

Mr. Grossberg reflected, "very impressive, Bryce: And whoever you are. Just when I thought you couldn't outdo yourself."

Nicky politely revealed her name to him.

Mr. Grossberg went on, "well, you and your creator can take a few days off: On my credit. We'll call it the Computer Generated Network. This is more than enough to crush Network 23!"

Nicky and Bryce thanked him on the way out, leaving the Network Computer for Mr. Grossberg.

Mr. Grossberg welcomed them. As soon as Bryce and Nicky were out of earshot, he turned to Mr. Bartlett. Mr. Grossberg orders, "in light of this Mr. Bartlett, fire everyone in the technical staff first thing in the morning."

Mr. Bartlett questioned somewhat nervously, "Mr. Grossberg?"

Mr. Grossberg insisted, "with Bryce's Network Computer, they're no longer of use to us. Have I made myself clear?"

Mr. Bartlett pointed out, "you already did, but I'm not so sure you're thinking clearly about this: Such a action will have Carter exposing secrets behind the Network Computer within days!"

Mr. Grossberg thought out loud, "quite true…sigh…now that you mention it. Very well: We'll give each technical staff member a few days long getaway vacation with our compliments, then make all their information blank just before they can return so that they never can."

Mr. Bartlett responded, "always a pleasure, Mr. Grossberg. I'll make the preparations first thing in the morning."

Early the next morning, in the mainly black and brown offices of Network 23 headquarters…

Theora, Murray, and a few other Network 23 staff members were very nervously looking around. Murray turned to Theora, "where's Bryce?! Sigh. Cheviot is going to…"

Theora sighed, "I just looked at his station: It's almost as if it's been cleaned out. But come to think of it…I can check my controller station to see if he left a clue there." She went to her Network 23 controller controls.

Murray concluded, "good. Good. Where's...?" Theora turned on the controller screen and the view-phone next to it, starting to check both for something out of the ordinary.

Edison came in through the main dark brown entrance door, very nervous himself. He answered, "right here, Murray. Max wasn't even around my apartment like usual. What's the emergency?"

Much to Edison's growing worry, Murray summarized, "we're still doing what we can to get a lead…sigh…but Bryce is missing."

Theora noticed a typed message on her controller screen, "not exactly. But…sigh…it's a personal message addressed to me, Edison, and Max."

Edison sighed hard.

Murray figured, "send it to my office. With something personal on Network 23, I don't want us making spectacles of ourselves for once." He and Edison went to Murray's office to the right of the main entrance. Theora shortly after joined them.

Edison wondered, "long as we're on the same topic here, why isn't Max making a spectacle of himself across our screens?"

Theora pointed out, "Max was sent to my apartment…and…sigh…hasn't been joking ever since."

Murray implied, "is that a joke? What?!" Edison was warningly glaring at him. Theora was bringing up the green lettered message on a black background.

She deduced, "my god: It's Bryce!" That got Murray and Edison's immediate attention.

Murray started to wonder, "well, what does it…? Oh my…! I don't know what to say...sigh…except I'm sorry."

The typed message was this:

If you are reading this, it means that I have willingly gone over to Network 66. Sigh. I've never really been good with social situations, especially when it comes to my own personal assessment on things. But since it's nearly impossible to ever get another chance to explain my logic to you…that is if you will ever understand…here I go.

Edison, I already know what you are thinking: How could Bryce turn on his own network? Well, when Mr. Grossberg was taken off the board for the Blipverts…my respect from the board was taken off too.

Cheviot may have had and still has respect for who you are, but he along with the rest of the board just saw me as a emotionless tool. They treated me as such too for months: Late paychecks, taking away important things of mine just because they're mostly in a pile on the floor, having to take money out of my paychecks to replace what I can, making me stop whatever I'm doing to hack into something… Sigh!

And yet, not even your reporting could report on that story. Mr. Grossberg was the only one in Network 23 who could keep that mistreatment from happening. But I can't blame you for not seeing that: You went for world changing reporting…for the greater good.

Max, for all the instances I got mad at you or annoyed, I am sorry. My processors just have a different personality program than yours. Logically though, our processors can agree that by protecting your program…sigh…Network 23 will still be capable of staying on the air. If Network 23 can't keep Network 66 in check, what network can?

Theora…sigh…what else can I say that I did not already type to Edison or Max? Well… Sigh. In a personal way, it's sad that I ended up spending more time with Max and Edison…when I still feel something like a stranger to you.

From all the months we were in the same network, the only things I knew about you was that you were a great programmer…and that you could keep everyone around you in check most of the time for the greater good. Even me. That last part alone makes it illogical to blame you.

For what I've done, I don't blame any of you for letting your emotions keep you from seeing my logic: All I can do is want you not to.

Your friend, Bryce.

Not long after reading it, Edison muttered, "damn board executives. I'm going to give them a piece of…!" He was almost at the office door, when Murray got in his way.

Murray insisted, "Edison! Sigh. I know you want to go right up to Cheviot and call the board out on this…"

Edison pressed, "why not?!"

Somewhat shaken herself, Theora answered, "because except for one message, Edison…! Sigh. We don't have enough proof to go live on it. That is, if the board even gave us the chance."

Edison sighed hard, "I'm sorry: I guess Bryce knew that too."

With a sympathetic hand briefly on his shoulder, Murray highlighted, "and as usual…sigh…I'm supposed to break the bad news to the board." He headed out of the office.

Teary eyed, Theora added, "good luck...for all of us." For the sake of remembering Bryce, she sent three copies of his goodbye message to Edison, Max, and herself.

Some hours later, in Zik Zak's headquarters…

In the Zik Zak version of a executive board room, a mostly wood brown and curtain yellow interior had a set of black old fashioned stairs at one of its corner and a somewhat smaller wall viewscreen. Black slicked back medium frontless haired Zik Zak Chairman Ped Xing was standing next to his two Zik Zak assistants, all with white and black formal wear. One assistant had clear glasses and the same hair, the other looking more like a reporter for hire version of Carter with darker hair.

Ped pressed coldly, "the Network 66 counterattack operation?"

The first assistant urged, "see for yourself, Mr. Chairman." He gestured for Ped to come to the viewscreen. The screen showed a recently developed advertisement. The logo was Viewer TV spelt out in mini black television sets, on a mostly dark red background from the center of a Z.

The bright yellow message under the logo said, "the only network that is run by you."

Ped laughed, "excellent: We'll follow it to the letter."

The second assistant checked in confusion, "Mr. Chairman, with all due respect…wouldn't that lead to a day when we lose control of our own network to viewers?"

Ped insisted darkly, "on the contrary: We'll bring back Neurostim in the form of television upgrades to ensure that we don't." Both assistants started clapping for Ped, followed by Ped himself clapping.

They chanted Zik Zak loudly, like a crowd of sports viewers.

Presently, in Max Headroom's personal cyberspace…

The security camera screen disappears. A-7 checks, "Max, how is your functionality now?"

Max slightly chuckles, "from my heart to my processors…M-M-Max Headroom is ready to go…go…go back live!"

A-7 giggles, "for you, Max...any millisecond."

**The End-d-d of Live-ve Television-on…Or The Start of Spin…Spin…Spin Off Fanfiction?**

**Please Feel-l-l Free To Comment On…On…On, Donate Your…Your Stories And Credits-its-its to Network 23, Or Vote For Me:**

**M-M-Max Headroom!**


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